Dear Mr Oakenshield
by Ridel
Summary: Lobelia Sackville-Baggins is exactly the sort of person who thinks all problems can be solved with a good scolding and a clip around the ear hole. But the Dwarf who'd taken advantage of her cousins affections and sent her home in disgrace is hundreds of miles away. Oh well, an angry letter will have to suffice.


**To: Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, Erebor.**

**From: Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, Number 75 Bagshot Row, Hobbiton.**

Dear Mr. Oakenshield.

I am told that it is not the done thing, referring to royalty as swine, no matter how disgracefully they have acted, so I will try to resist the urge during the writing of this letter. I can however make no promises.

In short sir, how dare you? How DARE you?  
It was, I am sure it is no surprise to you, a massive shock to find one fine summer morning, that our very own Billana Baggins had up and left the Shire, apparently on the heels of a large company of Dwarves, who the night before (due to the prodding of that most insufferable grey wizard) had invited her along on an adventure.

An adventure of all things!

Now, I will not pretend to you that my cousin and I have ever been particularly fond of each other, and I must confess I found the entire situation quite laughable. I had believed Billana would get no further than Bree before realizing her folly and returning with her tail between her legs. She was, I had assumed, less given to flights of fancy than her dear departed mother, and would soon come to her senses.  
Weeks passed, and then months. Summer ended, Autumn came and went, Winter passed without incident, then Spring and Summer again. And not a word did we receive.  
Her poor grandfather (she may have spoken to you of him as the old Took) was beside himself with worry, and sometime after a year had passed, finally began to mourn her properly. She was pronounced dead and her estate divided among her closest relatives.

Imagine our astonishment when on the very day my husband Otho and I were to move into the abandoned Bag End, a rather terrifying figure, thin, scar covered, carrying sword on one hip and a child on the other, wandered her way up Bagshot row!  
Such was our surprise we could scarcely comprehend that the aberration now slamming her front door in our faces was our missing cousin.  
I tell you, you miserable Dwarf, I have never seen a Hobbit so altered.  
Billana Baggins was once a happy, healthy woman with a wit that stung and a kindness that mended. As I believe I've stated before, we were never the best of friends, but I did on occasion enjoy our little verbal sparring matches, as I believe she did too.  
She was so full of life when she left us, and all but dead when she returned.

Her child (your child) was barely a weanling when she brought him home, and it was obvious beyond a doubt that he was of mixed breed (such tiny feet, I've no idea how he'll manage!) Due to the absence of a father, and Billanas rather mangled body, we all assumed that the Dwarf who had sired her child was dead. She was not inclined to talk about it, or anything else come to that, and it was clear that she was suffering a terrible loss, so most of us let the matter drop.  
Otho and I did end up moving into BagEnd, despite Billa's protests. Well SOMEONE had to look after her and the boy! Having finally got herself home, she barely had the spirit left to take care of herself, let alone a faunt! (Do you know, she ate no more than three meals a day after her return. THREE! And sometimes not even that! It took us months to get her back onto a healthy eating schedule!)  
And so I spent the next year cooking and cleaning, and trying to fix the poor woman that YOU broke. Otho and I have been back in our own home for a few years now, but I still make sure someone checks on her every day. We Bagginses take care of our own.  
She is doing much better these days, though she still has occasional fits of nerves, and suffers violent night terrors.  
Which rather brings us back to you, you spineless worm.  
My Otho is stronger than I, and was content not to pry into what actually came to pass during Billa's adventure. I, alas, am not, and after what must have been three months of waking to the most horrifying screams, simply could not take it anymore.  
I ought to be ashamed to say I resorted to getting my cousin thoroughly drunk in order to finally get the truth from her, but I am not. Any shame I might have felt was and has ever since been turned to ash by the heat of my outrage.  
The horrors that she was subjected to, the lengths to which she went to protect you all time and again. I had to confront her the next day to ensure what I'd heard was fact, and not simply the ravings of an alcohol addled mind. (I would not like to go through a fight like that again.)  
Still, Orcs, Goblins and Dragons are rather expected to be vile and merciless.  
what I did not expect was to hear that the dwarf who lead this merry little band, the one that she had loved and saved from too many perils to count, Married her, Bedded her, Threatened her, disowned her, and very nearly murdered her.  
You are not a Hobbit (quite obviously), and so I wonder if you fully understand what an unthinkable crime you have committed against my cousin.  
A Hobbit NEVER abandons their spouse, or causes them harm, no matter how much they may anger each other.  
A Hobbit NEVER uses someone they professed to love as some sort of tool, only to push them away when they are no longer needed. Family is the most important thing there is.  
Only a barbarian could stoop to such levels. It's just as well she escaped from you before she found she was with child! I'm not convinced that you would not have eaten your own Faunt!  
You are a cad, a rat, and a scoundrel. You've acted shamefully towards my cousin and by extension her families, the Bagginses and Tooks. I don't mind telling you that should you ever show your miserable face in the Shire again, I will personally take hold of you by the beard and throw you overarm into the Brandywine!

Well, I feel I've gotten as much of my disgust down on paper as I can at this moment. Billana would not thank me for writing this (which would be why I've told her nothing about it), but I simply can no longer stomach the fact that she was forced to flee her husband and (apparently) dear friends to save the lives of herself and her babe, while you sit upon a mountain of gold and never give a second thought to the life you've ruined.  
I hope your beard falls out and your wealth abandons you, the way you've abandoned your family, you despicable villain.  
I am entrusting this letter to a rather scruffy looking Dwarvish woman, traveling with a caravan from some place called Ered Luin all the way to your very own Erebor. She has given me her assurances that this letter will reach you.  
I pray it does, and that you feel like the wretch you are.

Warmest regards,  
Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.


End file.
